


Common Tongue

by HaikuIsCurrentlyHyperfixatingOn



Series: Legend of Zelda Gay Oneshots!!! [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bisexual Link (Legend of Zelda), Burlesque, Dry Humping, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Male Sheik (Legend of Zelda), Masturbation, My First AO3 Post, Nonbinary Sheik (Legend of Zelda), One Shot, Other, Prostitution, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27615854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaikuIsCurrentlyHyperfixatingOn/pseuds/HaikuIsCurrentlyHyperfixatingOn
Summary: The Once-Hero-Of-Hyrule goes to the local Sheikah burlesque, as per usual. The night he has is not as usual.
Relationships: Link/Sheik (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Legend of Zelda Gay Oneshots!!! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019083
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Common Tongue

The flames of the pyre lapped at the night sky as the sound of an intense yet rhythmic percussive line saturated the air, adding to the humid, seductive haze rolling over the men gathered in the large circle.

A person who seemed particularly enamored by the show: a green-clad twenty-something sitting on a stump, watching the moving bodies of the Sheikah with a dry mouth and a heat in his chest.

His name was Link. A few might perk their ears at that name, but here he was virtually a nobody. He was just another wine-reddened face here to appraise the bodies of strangers to fill the pit of loneliness that ate up at them. He would go home to his humble stone abode afterwards, but at least he didn't return to a questioning family like some of the adulterers that frequented the events. He liked it like that.

He took another swig of wine from his canteen as he studied the symbols on the outfits of the different dancers with curiosity. The concurrent staple was the red, bleeding eye glyph. He stared back at the symbols thoughtfully whenever their gazes crossed his vision, after lusting over the dancers that adorned them, of course.

Link didn't know much about the Sheikah, a mysterious and dwindling folk. He heard that they were once loyal and honorable servants of the Royal Family. He wondered why such a prestigious clan would have members dished out for burlesque. Some people said they were outcasted, or deemed useless for the clan. Some said that the Sheikah were essentially disbanded, and this is where some sank to survive. Some said that they weren't even Sheikah at all. 

But right now, Link did not care about all those semantics, he knew he was in no position to question the Sheikah's actions when he was here to fulfill such base desires. The warm static of the wine had washed over him and he had locked eyes with a fierce pair of red orbs from across the roaring fire. He gave a slight nod to the other gaze and put on his best "come hither" look.

His breath hitched slightly as he followed the lithe figure as it made its way effortlessly around the circle, eyes locked on his. This one was a new one, Link had not seen this dancer before. The chest and shoulders suggested something masculine, but soft features, long eyelashes, and hourglass shape (perhaps aided by the tulle in the garment) suggested feminity. In regards to the whole face, golden locks curtained crimson eyes, and everything below the bridge of the nose was covered by an obscuring piece of detailed fabric. The covering was standard for all of the dancers, but this one served to further blur the perception of the particular dancer's sex.

This added to the mystery and excitement for Link, it was no long just another droning night in the circle as this idealistic image of androgyny walked towards him.

Soon the dancer was on top of the Forgotten Hero, straddling him and moving to the music, eyes remaining intense on their client, but still neutral in a professional, elevated way. The Sheikah still managed to remain regal when grinding on stranger's laps for wares.

Link did not move to touch the dancer as he felt himself harden somewhere. It was a sign of respect and professionalism and was an unspoken rule to do so. Some unruly patrons still manhandled the dancers and overstepped what was in the contract in their stupor (sometimes in their sobriety as well). They were usually banned from the circle if they got too handsy too many times, but it was still a pain to see it. These people deserved respect like anyone else who worked to put food on the table. But again, who was he judging morals.

Instead, Link opened his hand, revealing some glittering red jewels as he threw his head back. The dancer took the offering of about twenty rupees and continued to grind down on the man in green.

He bit his lip as his new compatriot began to unbutton the white shirt that was underneath his already discarded tunic. They did not talk, Link knew that they probably would not even be able to understand each other, getting lost in translation. Link was perfectly okay with that as well. Their bodies moving together said quite enough for the both of them. That was their common tongue.

Link began to let whines and moans slip between his teeth as his dancer created friction between them, as well as rubbed his exposed chest, sparking pleasant sensitivity there. Link could feel the cautious tightness in his chest swell and flutter as lances of pleasure swept through the lower half of his body. The pleasure that was incomplete by design, that left him desperate for just that little bit more. The kind that kept him hooked. 

And he was definitely hooked on this one, they moved so expertly despite being a new face, and it felt like heaven where they bore down on. No wonder it took a second for Link to shake himself out of his bliss to realize the scarlet-eyed exotic dancer had ceased their delectible movements, and was ready to dismount.

He seemed surprised by his own reaction as the former knight let out a loud whine and proceeded to pour out at least triple the amount of rupees he had offered previously, "No, stay....."

The Sheikah hesitated for a moment, studying the Hylian with a calculating gaze. They slowly took the jewels, settling back into their client's lap.

Suddenly, something changed in the dancer's eyes, Link noticed. Now, in addition to their intoxicating fierceness and general lustfulness, Link could detect a glint of..... mischievousness? Requitement? He must've been drunk now.

Troubled thoughts were soon of no importance as the golden-haired Sheikah threw their hips around, garnering heavenly results. Link was tossed into the swells of desperate and inebriated pleasure yet again.

The drummers seemed to have hastened their rhythm, vibrations sent out into the humid midnight air as the fire swayed in-time with the beat and distorted the shapes around itself as it did so. It all just made everything feel even more like a hazy fever dream, especially to Link.

Yes, he must have been dreaming when he felt the Sheikah lean into his neck and take off that face covering, but expertly still obscuring their face in the crook of his neck, where he could feel their breath so delicately.......

Without warning, lips, tongue, and teeth were hot on his neck and suddenly Link was all too aware that this was not a dream. The surprised but unobjecting noises that came from the Hylian exemplified that. Link's breathing picked up its tempo, rushing against the music of the circle–this was NOT standard protocol. 

Dancers weren't permitted to kiss, or do anything besides dance with their clients, and one part of Link was trying to wrap his head around why the charge was doing this, and the other part was begging him to just slip back into lustful inebriation and not question it.

The knight's mind seemed to be racing in both directions at once as he let out an intelligent "uff? Mmm" in response to the Sheikah's unexpected movements. The feeling of their mouth on his neck and collarbone: wet, hot, licking and biting, making everything amplified 10 times. Their hands brushing his sensitive skin, their hips......

It went on like this for a few more glorious minutes until it felt like everything was teetering on the edge of a vast, dangerous cliff, threatening to come apart at the seams. The heat of the fire, or was that just their bodies movimg against each other? The beat of the drums and their hearts as their chests rose and fell in tandem, it all was too much to handle and Link was a mess. The former savior of Hyrule was making sounds like the ones only heard within the whorehouses around the slums of Castle Town underneath this Sheikah. It was all very disrespectful and blasphemous to all cultures involved, and Link relished in it. He had spent so long being a servant to a goddess, a prophecy, doomed to repeat the cycle over and over. Doomed to live up to the expectations of thousands of people he didn't even know. Here, he was able to fulfill himself as he saw fit without hawk-eyes following his every move, judging him. Or course it was base and certainly not the proper behavior for a hero. But he was in control, and now everything seemed to be reaching an electrifying peak.....oh my Gods.

The Hylian quite unattractively choked on his own saliva as he bucked his hips up into nothing, shell-shocked as his dancer was dismounting once again.

The disheveled blonde seeks to remedy the situation by frantically reaching for his rupee pouch, only to find it empty. 

.....was....right there..... 

And he couldn't help but feel the Sheikah did it on purpose, face still expertly hidden under their mask as they tidied themselves. Damned 'cubus! 

The Hero felt a sudden realization as well as a telling heat slowly creeping its way onto his face. He had never exhibited behavior like that in the circle before. Something was definitely......different in the air tonight....and Link wagers it isn't the incense. He looked thoughtfully at the Sheikah in front of him, coming down from his ecstasy. There seemed to be a slight rouge on their cheeks as well, hair tousled in just the right way, but their eyes remained hard and severe in their coincidental similarity to the valued rupees they collected. It was a way to maintain professional and untouchable, to have your guard down in a profession like this was almost asking to be taken advantage of, as unfortunate as it was. Luckily, few stepped or looked past the mysterious and piercing Sheikah Eye. It was a strange power dynamic, and Link was certainly allured by it.

The Legendary Hero of Hyrule decides to do something brave (an absolutely astonishing notion): he sits up and reaches out into the night air before the Sheikah can fully disengage. 

"Wait, I-.....What's your name?" 

The dancer reconnected fire and ice through their gazes, tilting their head slightly as if trying to examine Link's actions.

The rowdy noises of the burlesque and the incessant moisture (along with something a bit more intangible) was the only thing that hung in the air between themselves and their silence. 

The Sheikah moved, gliding back towards Link with something playful in their enchanting eyes, and enchant it sure did to the knight. His heart picked up slightly again as he watched the body move, unsure of what they were going to do. Link was sure they were smiling under that mask.

The unnamed stops directly in front of the forgotten name, leaning down. The Hylian can feel their breath, warm on his face. He breathes it in and it smells like cinnamon. He is truly intoxicated.

Then, the dancer places a finger on the client's bare chest, beginning to drag across it delicately, looking up at and into the man.

Link held his breath under their touch.

"S"  
"H"  
"E"  
"I"  
"K"

The name was punctuated with a swiftly performed kiss on Link's abdominals, to which the subject responded with a shaky exhale tinged with barely suppressed desire.

The Sheikah gives a wink, a blood-red orb glinting as they straightened their back once again. The two's polarizing auras intermingled for a few more moments, expressing themselves paramountly in the way those eyes so fiercely contrasted each other. And then they were gone.

Link watched a bit dumbly as they disappeared back into the fray of dancers and embers, the letters still sinking into him, along with some other chemicals that were making his brain (and other things) feel warm and fuzzy.

He recounts everything and his heart performs that telltale, tentative flip once again. The Hylian gets up slowly, much intent and thought behind the motion before he too disappears into the stone of the city, ready to put an end to some unfinished business.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moonlight was cold, frigid and lonely on the other side of town. The houses were darkened and sleepy and only hollowed echoes of the Sheikah's pied-piper drums could be heard here.

Somewhere within the layers of moon-soaked stone and scaffolding, the Hylian who dressed in the garb of the Kokiri was stirring, still underneath the spell of the red-eyed folk (or one red-eyed person in particular), and with a fire that burned in competition with the ones present at the festivities.

The flames were fanned by restrained grunts, shaky breaths, and the soft vocalizations of pleasure that diffused into the air, intent for unhearing ears....along with a sight for unseeing eyes. The Hylian moved his hips and arched his back in the relative darkness of his bedroom, constructed images of the Sheikah dancer appearing from the shadowy veil as he reached somewhere further down...

Link hums at a tone placed somewhere between bliss and desperate need as he lets his free hand roam across his chest and abs, imagining it as their hand, to which the obscuring ambiance gratefully complemented. 

The four walls of his sleeping quarters seemed dissolved in the blackness, a product of both his mind and the twilight that made him feel tantalizingly vulnerable upon his spartan bedspread. His thoughts were free to roam decontained 

"Ahhhhffffm," the knight states as he touches himself with a craving, the speed and movement of his full hand constantly reinventing itself: faster, slower, faster, twist, faster-too fast, slow, all the way down, all the way up, c'mon- hold....ah, that's right....

That enigmatic tension was mounting within him once again, along with the fire. It was a slipknot drawing in, only to be undone by the end.

He thinks about their lips and bites his own in tandem; their mouth, how it felt on him, even for only a moment...visions of them moving downward...On an impulse, he pulls his right hand from himself and drags his tongue across the palm until it is satisfactorily slick. It returned warm and wet.

Fuck.

The grip moved much more fluidly, and the returns in sensation were evident on The Hero's open-mouthed expression.

He thought of their head bobbing up and down....those commanding red eyes, still holding control from such a compromising position. They moved their mouth so expertly around him, and it felt like nirvana.

The Sheikah would get up and tell him to sit, pushing the blonde Hylian down into the fine velvet sofa that had suddenly appeared behind them for good measure. Yes, they were still the one in control, absolutely.

He could hear that familiar, primal drumbeat again. 

They would press their bodies together and he would breathe them in: smelling salts and linen just barely tinged with the sweet-sour of sweat. Wall-length curtains were drawn and candles were lit, making everything so much more intimate in the peculiar room. Skin on skin, hands grabbing flesh as the dancer moves their hips against his bare, welcoming cock. He thrusts back and soon it is as if they are dancing a waltz: the music provided by their breaths and pulses, melodic noises of pleasure a wonderful lyrical accompaniment. The friction sparks a different type of fire and by hell did its burns feel good.

If it was cold in Link's room that night, he certainly didn't notice it when he kicked off all his bedding, a layer of moisture reflecting dim light against his firm, toned body. He arched his back exquisitely, stroking himself, brushing his fingers over increasingly delicate skin and shallow, rippling muscles. His eyes were closed tightly and his vocalizations were less restrained. It felt wonderful, and it looked just as pleasing.

He imagined: their bodies were so close. He would taste the skin on their neck. Kissing, licking, moaning as he rutted against them, desperate. The Hero knew that's all it would really take, to take him to that explosive summit, that addictive overload of sensations. It was just like they were at the fire....That persistent Sheikah beat. It was all around him, it was inside him, reverberating from within his chest at an ever increasing tempo. It was all he could hear.

He performed as such upon his bedframed stage to an unequivocally silent venue: he rolled his hips smoothly against his working hand, he teased out that wonderful sensitivity with moans, an arched back and a well-practiced fist. He took everything to an impossible crescendo and his body was electric with pink-red passion. Lust, infatuation, and a karmic connection. He was almost at that place again....

He took it one step further: he imagined himself finally sinking inside them, a pressing heat surrounding him more ways than one, the walls around them were closing in, for the first time he heard their moans intertwine with his, a beautifully constructed sound. They moved together as one, the blonde-headed Sheikah adorning a glowing blush as they called out in pleasure. Yes, it was their expression of satisfaction and vulnerability that was the key, the man decided as he bathed in the remarkable sounds and sensations. That agile body moving up and down, those bits of skin, exposed and iridescent, faster and faster....those eyes.....

Then everything clicked into place.

"Sheik!" 

The words ejaculated from his mouth, loud and unconscious, unwilling to be held back any longer. That tremendously compacted tension and heat that could turn rocks into diamonds, released somewhere across his chest.

"Fuck....Goddesses...." He sighed out blasphemously, opening his eyes to the lonesome darkness of his bedroom once again.

The come-down was already descending upon him like carrion and he wiped the coagulated mess from his body before his eyelids could get too heavy. He picked up his bedding, the very dim illumination of the moon elsewhere guiding him in his actions.

He settled into his covers and closed his eyes, inviting the darkness of sleep with images of his new favorite Sheikah ingrained in his mind. 

He would definitely be at the circle again tomorrow night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first post on here I got the bright idea that I can post my drafts so uhhhh here's my LoZ smut. I don't expect anyone to find this but if you do you're rad and I hope you like it! 
> 
> Peace out,
> 
> ~Haiku


End file.
